Child Of Music (12 page)

She was afraid she had overreached herself, but there was no going back now, and in a half-nervous effort to soften what she was going to say, she put her hand on his arm.

'I'd like Janet to have a quite unprejudiced hearing from you,' she said steadily. 'And I think she might get that more easily now than — than later.'

'What do you mean by "later"?' He spoke abruptly, but he glanced down in a slightly startled way at the hand on his arm and made no move to withdraw from her touch.

'I mean—' Felicity swallowed nervously — 'that when you are married to Julia Morton it might be more difficult for you to—'

'Who says I'm going to be married to Julia Morton?' he interrupted harshly, and he brushed her hand from his arm then with an impatient movement.

'Why,
you
did!' For an appalled moment she wondered if she could possibly have been mistaken in what he had said. But he had been quite categorical. It had been the most emphatic — and painful — part of his rebuke. 'It was the — the night we found Janet sleepwalking,' she reminded him, steadying her voice with an effort. 'You reproved me for being prejudiced about Janet and I — I said you were prejudiced about
her.
About Mrs. Morton. And you told me you had a right to be so, because you were going to marry her. I'm sorry if—'

'Forget it,' he told her curtly.

'You mean it's not — true—' By a tremendous effort she kept her tone unemotional, almost incurious, though she felt half suffocated by the wave of pure joy which engulfed her.

'Let's say I jumped the gun rather.' He gave a grim,
unamused
little laugh. 'It's a habit of mine — a bad habit. I'm over-sure of myself. Didn't you once tell me that? Or perhaps you only looked it. Anyway, that's how you'd describe me, I don't doubt. Over-sure of myself.'

She had too! — but to Anthea, not to him. Now, however, joy on her own behalf and sympathy on his were intermingled in the most inexplicable way, so that she longed to say something comforting to him and snatched at the recollection of Anthea's words.

'People like you don't get where they are by being
unasure
of themselves,' she told him. 'Anthea once said that about you, and it's perfectly true.'

He laughed at that, patted her hand sharply but not unkindly and said, 'You're sweet. Let's go, shall we?'

So they went, even Felicity realizing that this was hardly the moment to prolong any argument about Janet. Besides, if he were indeed not going to marry Julia — oh, wonderful, wonderful thought! — the urgency about settling Janet's affairs no longer existed.

Beside him once more in the car, she managed to chat casually, so that he might not be put out by the realization that her thoughts and feelings were totally engaged by what he had just told her. But presently they fell quite naturally silent, and she was able to examine that curt admission more thoroughly.

That he had spoken of marrying Julia as a fact when it was no more than his intention was obvious. But what happened after that? Was it he who had had second thoughts, or, inconceivably, had she refused him?

He had not spoken like a man who had made the decision. In fact he had said he had been too sure of himself. That meant a rebuff of some sort, surely. Then — she had refused him. Or perhaps tried to make terms which he found unacceptable?

Yes, that was more likely.

A refusal would be contrary to everything one knew or guessed about Julia Morton. She meant to marry Stephen. Even Janet's father had said as much. And by her own observation Felicity could not doubt the fact. A flat refusal was out of the question. But - unacceptable terms? That sounded more like Julia.

For a few minutes Felicity taxed her powers of judgment and invention with the effort of deciding what possible terms Julia could have tried to impose. But the question was an academic one, so she gave it up and luxuriated instead in the single fact that the marriage between Julia and Stephen Tarkman was no longer a certainty. The realization of this brought a fresh wave of such inexplicable happiness that she shivered involuntarily with sheer excitement.

'Gold?' He glanced at her inquiringly.

'Oh, no! It's just — I'm excited about tonight, I suppose. It's so long since I heard a full-scale operatic performance and, judging from the reviews, Anthea must be wonderful in this.'

'Warrender too, I don't doubt. It should be quite an occasion. You're coming to the supper party afterwards, of course.'

That was a statement rather than a question. But she said diffidently, 'I don't know. I haven't been invited.'

'I'm inviting you. The supper party is mine, as it happens.'

'Oh!' She turned to smile at him. 'How absolutely perfect !'

He laughed, as though her
naïve
delight gave him real pleasure, and said, 'It will be at the Gloria. You're staying there, aren't you?'

'Yes. I thought I'd be madly extravagant just for one night. And as the Warrenders are there it seemed the easiest way of seeing something of Anthea. Not beforehand, of course. But perhaps after the performance.'

'Do you know your way round backstage?'

'I think so — yes. I went there once or twice in my student days. Though usually we got no further than standing breathlessly round the stage door,' Felicity admitted with a laugh.

'I'll look out for you in the house, and you can come
round
with me,' he told her, as they drew up in front of the Gloria Hotel, and Felicity felt that nothing could have more fittingly signalized the beginning of a magical experience than those words.

Her room — though doubtless one of the most modest that the Gloria provided — was in keeping with the glamorous unreality of the occasion, and she walked round it once or twice, savouring its charm. The unusual colour-scheme, the velvety thickness of the carpet, the discreetly luxurious appearance of her bathroom, and finally the view of the river from her wide window.

And all the time, at the back of her mind, was the thought that she was to spend most of the evening with Stephen Tarkman, and that he was probably not going to marry Julia Morton after all.

Anthea had promised that her ticket would be waiting for her at the box office, so it did not occur to her to try to make any contact before the performance, for she was well aware that undisturbed rest was essential to an artist at such a time. Felicity was therefore astonished when, on answering the summons of her telephone bell, she heard Anthea say at the other end of the wire, 'You got in all right, then? Did Stephen bring you?'

'Yes. And thank you for arranging everything so
marvellously
, Anthea. I thought you weren't supposed to open your mouth before a performance.'

'I'm not. But I sometimes do. Was it a nice drive up?'

'It was wonderful!' declared Felicity with such a lilt in her voice that the other girl laughed and asked mischievously.

'What did you talk about?'

'Oh, all sorts of things. Janet, for one. She's the little girl I think so highly of, you know. Stephen heard her once, but very much at a disadvantage because her beastly aunt was there. She's the niece of Julia Morton who—'

'Means to marry Stephen.'

'You think so?'

'I'm sure of it.'

'Suppose I tell you that he tried his luck and was turned down?' said Felicity before she could stop herself.

'I'd refuse to believe it. Who told you such a thing?'

'He did — Stephen. He made fairly light of it, but obviously had taken a bit of a knock. He said he had been over-confident. I can't believe she actually refused him, any more than you can. My guess is that she possibly put forward conditions he wasn't prepared to accept.'

'Such as turning you down for Tarkmans?'

'Oh,
no
, my dear! Of course not. I don't imagine that
I
came into it anywhere?'

'Why not?'

'Well, for one thing, I wouldn't rate as specially important to either of them,' Felicity said candidly. 'Certainly not important enough for them to have any sort of dispute about me.'

'Don't you believe it!' She heard Anthea laugh. 'She very much wanted you out of the way. I know that from the way she spoke to Oscar. If she was silly enough — and nothing is sillier than a jealous woman — she just might have tried to force Stephen's hand.'

'But he wouldn't have bothered to stand out over
me
,' Felicity protested. 'He didn't even know me very well at that point.'

'Oh, he wouldn't fight it on personalities,' Anthea said. 'Simply on the principle that he wouldn't have any woman trying to dictate policy at Tarkmans. And quite right too.
I
don't say it
was
that, but it
could
be.'

Felicity was silent for half a minute, and then Anthea said, 'Why does she dislike you so much, Felicity?'

'
I've
told you, I think her niece is a near-genius. I
know
she is, and I'm determined to get her into Tarkmans if
I
can. Julia hates her, and
I
think hates me even more for pushing her claims. She'd love to set Stephen against both of us and—'

'You're sure the child is really good?'

'As sure as
I
've ever been of anything.'

'Leave it to me, then.
I
'll see what can be done. Julia Morton isn't the only interfering woman around Tarkmans when it comes to the crunch.
I
also can exercise a little pressure.'

'Anthea ! What do you mean?'

'Never mind. I can't talk any more now. I think I hear Oscar coming along the corridor and he'll be mad if he finds me
yattering
on the phone just before a performance. I'll see you later. But just one more thing, Felicity—

'Yes?'

'Is all this terribly important to you?'

'About Janet Morton, you mean?'

'No, about Stephen Tarkman. Is it important to you that he might not marry Julia Morton after all?'

In the background Felicity thought she heard the sound of a door opening, and she knew suddenly that she had only a few seconds in which to decide on one of the most vital statements of her life.

'Yes,' she said steadily. 'Yes, it's terribly important, Anthea.'

And then the telephone went dead.

To Felicity a seat in the stalls on what was virtually a gala occasion was still sufficiently a novelty for her to derive a good deal of
naïve
pleasure from the experience. She arrived at the Opera House early, lingered for a few minutes in the crowded foyer, and then went into the still half-empty house.

With a pleasant twinge of nostalgia she glanced up at the gallery where she had often sat in her student days. Now it was dignified by the name of 'amphitheatre', but the hum of conversation which drifted down from it held the same note of shared enthusiasm as in her day.